


How To Not Traumatise Your Terran

by Sheep_Dragon



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Parental Kraglin (Sorta), Parental Yondu (Kinda), Squint Or You'll Miss It Slash, Young Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheep_Dragon/pseuds/Sheep_Dragon
Summary: Kraglin loses out on a substantial amount of credits, Peter gets the best toy in the Universe by winning a potentially traumatising game and Yondu is a casual parent that genuinely, on some level, seems to care. Oh and the crew stages a Mutiny.





	How To Not Traumatise Your Terran

Of all the days for the crew to Mutiny, it had to be on Kraglin's day off.  
The one time he gets to sleep in and forget the fact that he is Yondu's go-to nanny for their most recent living cargo, which the blue bastard is currently getting way to attached to, despite his vicious denials, and the crew do this.  
He has heard the mutterings over the last week or so, having whispered many urgent warning's in Yondu's ear over the last few days, slowly weeding out fact from fiction as he stalked the ship with his Terran shadow in tow, creating a list of who is to be thrown out of the airlock at the first sign of trouble.  
Kraglin could read a room, it was a skill that most Ravagers that wore the red leather of Yondu's faction seemed to completely lack. So it was of little surprise to him that when Yondu stated that he was keeping the skinny Terran brat that could fit into small spaces, the crew's anger was almost palpable despite the faux look of neutrality.  
'Captain's gone soft.'  
The damn statement was like a mantra poisoning the crew and wavering the loyalty of those who trusted the Captain implicitly. Under Kraglin's hawkish stare in the mess while he waited for Peter to finish gobbling whatever stew Cook had brewed, the whispers would die, but as he left, the Walkman blaring 'Hooked on a feeling' from the nauseating orange headphones that were strung around Quill's neck, the muttering would resume.  
Yondu, despite seemingly being an unhinged kleptomaniac with a puzzling fondness for dash consol ornaments to most of the galaxy, was a sly old thing and was completely aware of Kraglin's concerns even before they were brought to him by his First-Mate.  
"Keep the boy safe then." The blue alien snorted when the Xandarian had asked of Quill's fate if the crew were to actually be stupid enough to Mutiny on the way to their next job. "We've known each other how long, Kraglin? I know you have the best hiding places."  
The Xandarian scowled at his 'best friend' and occasional lover, if that was what the more romantic folk were calling a quick fuck in the closet these days, through the holographic screen he was currently prodding mulishly at with thick gloved fingers. The Terran at his feet was currently occupied with his damn music and a data-pad displaying the schematics of Kraglin's old ship that was due to be scrapped the next time they drifted near Knowhere, less the First-Mate could find a use for the old orange and blue dust collector that didn't include tearing it into pieces and selling her off chunk by chunk as spare parts.  
"Clearly too fucking long." He snapped, subconsciously raising a hand to scratch over the tattoo's on his neck, aware that he had slipped into a sensitive subject for both of them after a moments pause. "Yondu seriously..."  
The Captain let out a sharp whistle, the Yaka Arrow jolting to life from its holster and sliding out smoothly into the air trailing red radiation like a comet tail. "That's an order Obfonteri."  
Kraglin hissed through his teeth, before throwing his hands up in surrender, prompting a laugh from his Captain as the blasted arrow dropped back into his outstretched palm.  
"He's bunking with you tonight anyway." Kraglin commented smugly as his shift finished, Peter scrambling to his feet like a startled hare as the lanky adult tapped him on the head with a knuckle, headphones slipping from over his ears to round his neck prompting a complaining squawk from the human. "I have a shift off, which you agreed to in exchange for other 'favours', so you can't take it back."  
The Captain scowled down at him from his chair, red head crest rippling with a crimson power before he clearly, to Kraglin at least, began to sulk like a child while the First-Mate matched his stare with an unimpressed air. "And you can't keep the boy entertained because? I have a ship to run you know!"  
"I don't know the ins and outs of my old ship like you do. And he needs taught if you want him to be useful." The First-Mate said casually, lying through his silver teeth as he makes for the door, leaving Yondu and Quill in a petty glaring match, knowing the Terran would still be alive come the next morn despite all of the Centaurian's huffing and puffing. The cerulean asshole was obsessed with dash ornaments for Thanos' sake! Heck, shrink Quill down some and he practically became a dashboard bobblehead when he was swaying his head to the music blasting from his headphones. "Good Luck Cap'in. And make sure Horuz doesn't eat the kid, it'll give the dumb idiot indigestion." 

\---

So here he was, a day off and in the midst of a ship wide Mutiny.  
It was like the universe wanted to fuck with him.  
Some idiot called Grogis, hired at the last seedy port the Ecelctor had stopped at, had practically knocked down the door to his small cabin, only to find himself skewered through the eye and consequently, brain, with a throwing knife that Kraglin kept under his pillow in case of occasions such as this.  
The Xandarian growled as a dark green Mutineer stomped into the room after his downed companion, rifle not even pointed in the First-Mate's direction as he sprung from the bed, his pistol up and aimed for the head, loosening two shots without any ceremony, painting the doorway a neon purple while scattering a mist of it into the thankfully quiet hallway.  
Cursing his foul luck, Kraglin tripped over the bodies on his way out, having retrieved his throwing knives and some spare ammo for his pistol from a chest beneath his bunk, he took off down the maze of hallways. Some were already littered with the bodies of loyal Ravagers and Mutineers alike, leaving the lanky Xandarian to casually wonder to himself how he didn't hear the commotion earlier as he skewered another rebel in the throat that had just rounded the corner with his knife, sending a cascade of green ooze over his red leathers.  
However, he had his orders, Yondu had tasked him with looking after Peter in an Emergency. So that's what he was going to do.  
The Captain could take care of himself, his Yaka Arrow one of the most terrifying things in the galaxy. With one jaunty tuned whistle, Yondu could create a massacre to those in his sights. It was the ones that preferred to knife their enemies in the back that Kraglin always took care of, himself always lurking at the Captain's back for any sign of betrayal. After all, unless it was strictly warranted, Kraglin would forever remain loyal to his fellow former slave.  
He made his way through the ship slaughtering the traitors as he went, accumulating a few allies that he saved with a well-timed knife or shot.  
"Help me get to the Captain's Quarters, then find me the slimy Mutineer Ringleader. I want his entrails for this!" He snapped, booting a slower moving Ravager in the backside when he didn't move fast enough from his cover to move further down the gaping expanse of a corridor, ignoring the pained yip he received in reply.  
He'll probably feel bad about it later, give the poor sod lighter duties if he survives the uprising but right now, Kraglin can't really give two fucks as he storms down the corridor, his throwing knife, slippery with the technicolor blood of the Mutineers flying into the eye of another oncoming traitor, growling like a cornered animal when a plasma bolt hits him in the shoulder, charring his uniform and chewing into the muscle beneath his skin.  
"Teach them to mess with my down time." He mutters murderously, kicking the dying alien in the balls as he stomps over them on his way, the adrenaline of the day numbing his pain to a dull distant throb.  
His red leathers are almost dripping with liquid by the time he makes it to the captain's quarters, his entourage fans out around him before he gives the signal for them to find the ringleader of this little Mutiny and drag him kicking and screaming to either him or the Captain.  
The door slides open for his passcode with a hiss of hydraulics and there he finds Peter Quill, sitting sulking on Yondu's bed like someone had just taken his favourite toy, seemingly in the midst of a 'timeout' of sorts.  
"Quill!" He hisses, more than a little dismayed that Yondu just left the boy here, making the eight year old jump.  
The kid takes one look at his blood splattered physique and scrambles backward half tipping over the other side against the wall with a panicked whimper causing the Xandarian to swear under his breath, the door hissing closed behind him.  
"Peter! Get over here now!" He orders grabbing a facecloth from the Captain's personal bathroom, making sure to take one from the middle of the pile. "Now kid, or I'll tell Yondu you broke some of his knickknacks!"  
The threat sends the Terran scuttling to him, though out of grabbing range of his bloodied gloves which he makes a show of stripping off as he squats to work with the cloth, using one of his clean knives that hadn't tasted blood yet to slice into the fabric, creating one long strip.  
"Remember that game you told me about? The one on Terra? With the Pinstripe thing?" He asks, trying to keep his stressed tone level as he works, knowing he's on borrowed time to get them both out of here before Mutineers decide to hunt for the Captain's pet project.  
"A piñata?" The boy asks, big eyes watery and startled, hugging his backpack. "Kraglin are you hurt? Does Yondu know?"  
"I'm fine kid, it's paint. Some crew thought it would be funny to dump some on me from the catwalks when I was tuning my ship." The lanky man lies, wincing as he begins to feel the plasma burns chewing into his shoulder when he moves it, turning his slightly faded rust red uniform a bruised purple as his blue blood soaks into the leather. He may be a heartless criminal that would sooner steal from a grandmother than kiss one but he doesn't exactly get kicks out of traumatising small children with Ravager politics. "Yeah a Piñata, we're going to play a game now Peter. One that you must abide by the rules or you don't win."  
The child looks surly at the mention of rules that can't be broken, though he does have the cheek to ask what the prize is.  
Kraglin winces internally thinking the short answer of 'your life' isn't exactly going to do in this situation. "Tell you what." He says, mentally shanking a certain blue Centaurian over the credits he's about to lose as he holds out the makeshift blindfold. "You win, I'll give you my old M-ship. You'll even get to name her and everything."  
The boy lights up like a supernova, reaching for the First-Mate's hands and shakes them excitedly, though the kid is careful not to touch the 'paint' beginning to dribble out from under his sleeve, "You'll teach me how to fly?!"  
"Yondu can do that kid, 'bout time he did some of the parenting. Be extra good and I'll even make sure he keeps that promise he made of teaching you how to shoot." He bribed as he reached up and tied the blindfold onto the excitedly grinning Terran.  
"Even though he says his word means squat?" Peter asked suspiciously eyes narrowed behind his blindfold while the adult reaches for his Walkman's headphones, his little forehead scrunching in distaste.  
"Yondu has the miraculous ability to be able to do whatever he wants in this galaxy, though take it from me kid, he'll keep his promises." Kraglin assured resolutely, "Now listen good Quill. When I put these headphones on you, you crank your music to full and don't turn it off till i or Yondu himself removes your blindfold, alright? I'm going to grab your hand and you'll have to follow me but if I let go you crouch down as small as you can alright?"  
Peter nods his head excitedly, suspicion forgotten as Kraglin slips the headphones over the Terran's head, the spongy orange speakers covering his ears as the first notes of the tape lodged in the Walkman begin to play. 

\---

Kraglin takes the long route to the Command Deck, slowly and methodically as he gathers crew that are more than a little amused by the fact that he has the Terran blindfolded and desensitised to the world about him. The Xandarian gives them all a fierce snarl when he hears a few beginning to snicker as Peter trots after him like a duckling, baring his teeth like a protective mother and waves a knife at them all. "If one of you so much as thinks about removing that blindfold and letting him see a dead body or a blood puddle you're all going to be babysitting him when he has nightmares and wets the bed."  
The threat works and it isn't till later, when Kraglin is getting his shoulder stitched by a medic and the potential usurper has been jettisoned out of the airlock screaming for his life, that Yondu decides to stroll up and tease him.  
Quill, never one to stray from either of them on the threat of being eaten or misplaced in an airlock by the rest of the crew, is tagging along behind the Captain as he saunters in, though his grin is no less big than the damn smile that Yondu sports on his stupid blue face like he has just won the lottery jackpot. "Quill tells me you two made a bet."  
Kraglin's eyes narrow, almost to thin slits as the white pad of a bandage is pressed into his wound and the dainty little medic begins to wrap the cleaned and sealed injury. "Well, hello to you too Captain, glad to see you are still alive."  
"Eh, I wasn't worried, harder to kill than a roach on Helios 2 you are." the Centaurian says with a blasé wave of his hand, though his eyes scan over his First Mate ravenously before he truly settles into his relaxed demenour, "Tell me about this bet that you lost. The Boy keeps telling me that I owe him flying and shooting lessons now. Just about tanned his hide for the sheer cheek of it."  
"Don't you have a ship to run?" the First Mate growls as the medic ties the knot tightly and recommends some rest before taking her bowl of bloodied water and moving onto the next groaning patient as the skinny male re-zips his uniform.  
"Uh uh, Kraglin," Yondu smiles, all sharp and predatory as his friend scoots off the medical bed and rolls his good shoulder, "Can't disobey the Captain."  
"I hate you." the Xandarian sulks, whistle clicking the phrase in Centaurian, making the blue asshole let out a booming cackle.  
"Love you too." Yondu teases back with a long tweeting whistle that Kraglin raises a brow at before gesturing to the kid that lurks between them, anxiously fiddling with his headphones.  
"He won my old M-ship."  
Yondu's mouth drops open, his jaw twitching making him look like some alien version of a fish before he lets out a furious shout of, "Absolutely not!"  
"He won fair and square," Kraglin said nonchalantly with half a shrug, wincing as he jostles his injury, his own wicked smile taking form on his lips as Peter grins broadly and grabs his bony hand tightly with glee. "You said to always pay your dues Yondu."  
"He's eight. He's not getting that old death trap." Yondu snarls as Kraglin pats the Terran on the head and ruffles his hair.  
"It will take at least two years to fix the thing up since it has been rusting in the back of the hanger for nearly a year." the First Mate says before clamping his hands over the protesting Peter's ears and hisses quietly to the unimpressed Captain with a sour tone, "It was either that or you would have had a jibbering wreck of a mentally scarred Terran child if I hadn't made up that ridiculous game, you owe me for this, boss."  
Yondu's frown deepens, head implant churning a deep crimson and the arrow rattles in its holster before he lets out a deep, bone weary sigh and rolls his ruby irises, "Fine, but you are teaching him how to look after the damn M-ship, he learns theory until he's ten, then I will take over. Deal?"  
Kraglin nods once, before releasing the boy who pipes up in a bright voice while high fiving the smug First Mate, "I'm going to name her Milano! Like the cookies mom used to make!"  
"And this is why you don't let eight year olds have spaceships." Yondu groans, massaging his already aching temples as Kraglin lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a minor headcannon that Kraglin was cell mates with Yondu while they served the Kree as slaves (though not necessarily a slave from birth like Yondu was) and stuck with him when Stakar freed them. Since they share some substantial history this is why Kraglin is so loyal to his Captain.


End file.
